


what little we have ever understood

by Ro29



Series: Messing around in the Soft Wars Sandbox [29]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers being assholes, Character Study, Dred Priest is his own warning, Emotional Hurt, Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In a way, Kamino Era, Light Angst, Relationship Study, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars, harm to children mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro29/pseuds/Ro29
Summary: “At least,” Neyo sneers, cruel and quiet, “I’m not his favourite.”
Relationships: Faie & CC-8826 | Neyo
Series: Messing around in the Soft Wars Sandbox [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937752
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	what little we have ever understood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/gifts), [SailorSol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorSol/gifts).



> for the prompt; maybe something with Priest?
> 
> This ended up more focused on kamino and the effects of priest
> 
> title from ursula k le guin's 'science' from 'finding my elegy'

“At least,” Neyo sneers, cruel and quiet, “I’m not his favourite.”

Faie snarls and the punch, when it lands, snaps cartilage and draws blood.

Neyo laughs through it all, cold and cruel. There’s blood on his teeth and Faie wants nothing more than to take his arm and twist until the bone snaps and grinds together and the words disappear from where they hang in the air and echo in his head.

He swallows thickly, breathes hard and his mind is blank with rage.

Neyo’s face is a rictus of cold malice and not a word he’s said is untrue.

Neyo holds the number one rank because he fights for it, because he needs to be the best and works to keep it every day.

Faie holds the number two rank without needing to do a single thing.

He is already everything Priest wants, he’s just smart enough to know being number one comes with more cons then second rank does.

_‘At least I’m not his favourite’_ Neyo taunted and he’s right. Neyo cares too much about being first rank, had to try too hard to get and keep it for Priest to favour him, too much to prove.

Faie swallows, “At least,” he mutters, detached and cold, distant, as his hand throbs and the blood on Neyo’s face stands out under the lights, “I don’t try to _earn_ his favour.” and Neyo goes blank with rage.

Which is worse, Faie wonders, blood humming and skin buzzing, having the favour without needing to do anything to earn it? Or pushing over and over again to earn it and still falling flat?

Either could be the right answer, with Priest, and there are bruises on both their arms and faces, exhaustion in the set of both their shoulders.

Faie doesn’t have an answer for that, and neither it seems, does Neyo.

Faie doesn’t even know why he came here, doesn’t remember what made him think annoying Neyo now was a good idea instead of getting sleep for tomorrow's evaluations.

Neyo’s voice is hard and quiet, doesn’t rise or burn, is frigid cold and just as striking as being forced to stand stock still out in the rain and wind until your fingers went numb and your joints popped with every sway.

“At least I know when to _stop_.”

Faie shakes and the words hang in the air like shattered glass and his hands ache, the memory of warm skin beneath them and the slowing of a pulse and knowing that was _him_ and not Priest.

He grits his teeth, raises his chin, leans against the wall and smiles, more a barring of teeth than anything else, “Well someone’s in a mood today, wouldn’t be scared to lose your place would you?”

Neyo scoffs, sets his nose and returns a grin just as sharp-toothed and even more bloodied, “Oh I have every confidence I’d win that fight _kih’vod_.”

Faie tilts his head, “Like you won yesterday’s fight?”

Neyo snarls, flicks curses at him and very obviously doesn’t favour his left leg. “So you’ve beat Priest at some point?” he asks, innocent and already knowing the answer.

None of them have ever beaten Priest before. That doesn’t mean Neyo isn’t still angry about losing.

Faie leans against the wall, hand throbbing and body aching, and watches Neyo walk silently to his bed.

' _Weapons,'_ Priest calls them, and he isn't wrong.

"One day, he's gonna find a way to dig your pride out of you," Faie muses, and isn't sure himself whether it's a warning or a threat.

Neyo's grin is mocking, "But he hasn’t yet.”

Faie shrugs, “No,” he allows, “not yet.”

Neyo lays easily on the bed, sprawl interrupted by the briefest wince he can’t hide.

Faie snorts, “Getting old?”

Neyo sneers, flips a rude gesture Faie’s way and makes a point to stretch out despite the way Faie knows it must cause the aches and bruises to hurt.

They don’t show each other their hurts, they’re more likely to cause them.

Faie swallows, and it clicks in his throat.

Neyo doesn’t tell him to leave, so he doesn’t.

He grabs a ‘pad off the dresser, ignores the muttered curses and protesting, and settles against the wall to read.

“Your punch is weaker than a second-cycle’s,” Neyo finally says after Faie’s read through two pages of something about engines.

Faie rolls his eyes, “We’ll see how weak my punch is when I win this comfy room tomorrow.”

Neyo’s laugh is mocking and Faie knows his grin is sharp

Neither of them apologize, neither of them are sorry.

It’s quiet in the room. Faie keeps reading and Neyo pretends to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> im sad now
> 
> If you want to find me other places I have a [writing tumblr](https://rose-blooms-red.tumblr.com) and a [fandom tumblr](https://themessofthecentury.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please come yell at me about Star Wars and DC!


End file.
